Known Present Joy

I guess we’ll sit in bubbles
waiting for the angel of death
to pass us by, or else
meet us alone—
I guess we’ll sit and wait
for the night clouds to drift past
tinting orange and pink in the morning,
then peek out from our curtained windows
to see who else survived the dark—
or others will: but I
will stand at the railing of my deck
like a passenger at the bow
sailing in this Earth ship through the stars
no worse for all the fear and waiting,
unscathed by time and the inevitable
joy and pain it brings; I will laugh
with the night, as with the morning
for every second is a gift
planned and given to us, as planned
by divine Intention from the start.
This, too, was known
those many days and centuries ago:
the present does not corrupt the past
as the future is not weighed down by Now.
We shall laugh in the morning
we shall be afraid of other things
and this present darkness is not all,
nor was it ever; only part of the whole.
The ship plunges through the waves
of time and celestial light before and after
and I will be here to feel the spray upon my face
for every moment until I’m not.








April 2020